With trembling lips and hands the two boys began. The flute gave forth a sharp piping, the drum tried to roar as fiercely as the cannon. There was at first no tune, there was at first, indeed, only a mad discord. And still the pirate ship came on.
"Louder! Louder! Louder!" The boys did not know whether they had heard or had imagined the command. They were playing "Susy, dear Susy," and playing it like a jig. As though its sprightliness steadied them, arms grew stronger, breath more even. The gunners heard, the infantry heard, the women and children shivering in the hold heard, and best of all the evil men on the pirate ship heard. The hands of the gunners trembled a little less, the hands which held the pistols and sabers grasped them more firmly, the women and children looked with a tiny bit of hope into one another's eyes, and the pirates looked at one another with astonishment.
It may have been that the captain of the pirate ship did not care to try conclusions with a force which could spare men to play the drum and flute; it may have been that he could observe that the firing of the second shot was the matter of only a second or two; or it may have been that merely the lively defiance of "Susy, dear Susy," discouraged him. At any rate, he altered the course of his vessel. When the second shot sailed after him, he had darted out of range.
At first the passengers of the Lyon stared as though a spell had been put upon them. A moment ago they had been in danger of their lives; now they were safe while the enemy sailed away. Some laughed aloud, others wiped their eyes, and a sailor flung open the hatchway and shouted the good news to the anxious hearts below.
Though the distance between the Lyon and her enemy grew wider and wider until presently the stranger had vanished over the horizon's edge, the sailors kept watch until nightfall.
But the passengers gave no thought now to an enemy. They saw, late in the afternoon, a sailor lowering the sounding-line over the ship's side. They had watched this process many times. But the earnestness of the sailor and the eager watching of his companions gave it a new significance. Into the group at the ship's edge young Conrad forced his way.
"How much?" said he.
The sailors paid no attention and Conrad concluded to wait. Presently the line was drawn in and the sailor announced to the captain in a loud voice,—
"Thirty-five fathoms, sir."
"That is shallow," said Conrad. "Is there any danger?"